The Tragic Tale of Miss Regulus Black
by laughjar13
Summary: Just as Amina drew her last breath in her small, cozy, cottage home for one, Regulus Black Jr inhaled her very first breath in the dark, unwelcome abode that was Grimmauld Place. *I do not own Harry Potter or the cover picture.
1. Prologue

There was a distinct crashing noise downstairs, and Amina woke with a loud gasp that echoed throughout the soundless room. And for a moment after, everything seemed still, a better word perhaps, would be to say that everything seemed dead. It was the type of eerie silence Amina had not often, if ever, experienced and in response, for about a moment, she lived in fear. It was in this achingly empty moment that fear seized her heart, for no other reason then as a reaction to a bad dream. There was an uncomfortable stretch of silent seconds, and Amina lived in paranoia for a few moments more before she was comforted in the fact that she was home, in her bed and safe. As she wondered at the noise which startled her awake a new fear crept into her mind. She was the only one home, she's always the only one home, _so_ _what had made that sound?_

Amina cautiously lifted the duvet off her body, and took a single silent step forward, towards the door. Her heartbeat rose with every passing second, her thoughts were reassuring her, but her intuition told her that something was very, very, wrong. **Thud. Thud. Thud.** A faint sound grew louder and bolder, until she heard the familiar beat of footsteps, right outside of her room. _I must have imagined that,_ Amina thought, _there is nobody home….there can't be….it's only...me… it's just… me…I'm safe….safe...nobody would bother with this..._ Yet, even as those thoughts raced through her mind her pale hand reached out to the bedside table, shaking and fumbling until they were clenching her phone in her grasp. The footsteps grew closer, and louder, if that was even possible. **_THUD. THUD. THUD_.** Amina was now panicked and desperate, her movements clumsy in an attempt to click the correct number, yet just as she was to dial 911, the door burst open, with the silhouette of a man standing right behind it. Amina let out a piercing scream, and in her frightened state, her trembling hands dropped her phone.

She did not remember much after that point, but some things she would never forget. For one, Amina did recall the adrenaline that surged through her veins, and the strength of the man whom grappled and wrestled her away from the ground. Away from the phone _…away from her salvation…_. She remembered how she had hoped that she was crawling fast enough to reach her phone, and a pair of monstrous hands clamping around her neck, suffocating her, just as she was to click the call button. Her head had snapped backwards quickly with a worrying _crack_ , but she had still evaded death. She could remember how it felt when her lungs were fighting for air, and her hand clawing at anything and everything, battling against her captor with furious thrusts and kicks. Above all, the only thing she was capable of concentrating on was her relentless _NEED FOR AIR!_...Right then, she was the personification of raw desperation, fear in it's finest form. She had continued to struggle for a while longer, but her body began to falter, and eventually her will failed her. And It was then that she accepted her inevitable death. Her legs had grown weak, her arms hung frail at her sides, and her body had been twitching and writhing in a pathetic display of defeat…and it was not long after that she drew her last breath, her final memory of this life to be of malicious laughter to haunt her every thought.

Though it seemed it was not the end yet, for there was this one moment after, and it was a very peculiar moment indeed. It was also a very short moment. Amina could feel her sense of understanding slipping away from her, her very being retreating into a cold, dark abyss of wonders unknown. She wasn't able to know for much longer, not because she didn't want to, but because she was forgetting _how to know_ and if she had been capable of feeling she would have been so, very, confused. At that present moment of time it would be quite incorrect to refer to her as an it, much less a she. What had become of her soul was only just on the verge of existing and so very far beneath the scale of that which measures what is and what isn't. The entire process caused the not-very-existing being more pain than that felt in any a life time, the pain experienced by everything and everyone in their lifetimes infused, multiplied a thousand times more. At that point, the feeling was at a height too extreme to even label as pain. Even then, you could only possibly, understand a slither of what the not-very-existing being might have felt if it could have felt anything at all, but the not-very-existing being was galaxies away from that sort of conscious sense. For the being Amina had become retreated far further than any other creature or thing could think to go, for it was past the bounds of their imagination, just as the not-very-existing being was past the limitation of laws and physics. Such a thing that made as much sense as that was left behind much earlier in the not-very-existing being's time period of existence. It was this state of complete nothingness, teetering on the edge of everything and anything, which had saved the not-very-existing being. It fell back into forwardness, and the-not-very existing being became less and less, and simultaneously more and more, almost enough to _be enough_ , if you know what I mean.

This had all happened in such a short amount of time that it was beneath the limits of human comprehension, yet, taking so long that the lifespan of space and all in it would seem but a Nano-second in comparison. The ultimate paradox.

Just as Amina drew her last breath in her small, cozy cottage home for one, Regulus Black Jr inhaled her very first breath in the dark, unwelcome abode that was Grimmauld Place.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

It was quite probably the most unsettling experience Amina had ever had. She had been expecting death as her lungs had given out on her, her eyes had not so much as blinked before she couldn't see anything anymore, and found herself quite capable of breathing again. It happened so quickly, so unexpectedly that Amina thought perhaps that this was death. She could hear herself wailing into oblivion, screaming and thrashing with all her might, which apparently, wasn't much. She had no control over her emotions, her body was a needy mess of tears and sniffles and from what little she could see, she was in a world of giants. Towering figures surrounded her, she couldn't make out how they looked like, but she could hear just fine. Amina took a minute to close her eyes, and calm down. Examine the situation. Panic later, observe now, she _needed to know what the hell was going on._

"She's certainly got a decent pair of lungs on her, that one." One of the towering figures, a woman from the tone of her voice, muttered tiredly.

"My son….give me my son…,''croaked the exhausted voice of another figure, whom Amina could not see.

Amina was gradually taking stalk of the conversation, her mind a whirlwind of different possibilities as she caught brief snippets of sentences spoken, and the woman holding her was handing her off to another lady who was lying in bed. Amina was intelligent enough to understand what the situation implied, but she was startled enough by such an absurd possibility that she ceased her relentless cries. Not to mention… _son? That wasn't possible….surely the world would not be so cruel as to….as…to_

"What is this? **She's a girl?!** "The lady figure holding me mumbled in disbelief.

Amina would have wept in joy if she hadn't already exhausted her arsenal of tears. Besides, she was a little taken aback by the woman's attitude, Amina wasn't sure she liked the tone the lady-figure was using. What was wrong with being a girl?! It's not like this was the dark ages…at least, not that she knew of...it couldn't possible be…. ** _she needed to know when and where she was right now._**

"It seems that you owe me 10 galleons, I won the bet." Came the reply of a smug, male voice before continuing, "Though what to name her, I wonder?"

"We'll name her Regulus Black, just as we decided. Look at her features, it seems like she'll take after you anyway, and Regulus will work just fine as a female name if I say so.'' The sound of an exasperated woman confirmed, in a very no nonsense tone and it was decided that Amina Shindy was now Regulus Black Jr.

Regulus wasn't quite sure everything around her was real, it was all little too convenient, a little too good to be true, a little too bad to be true and more than a little ludicrous. She supposed she must be in a dream of sorts, but it didn't matter, because in this dream her father was Regulus Black. The Regulus Black, an actual wizard! It didn't matter that this wasn't real. It didn't matter that she was small, or that she couldn't see a damn thing. It didn't matter that she couldn't control herself or that someone tried to kill her. What mattered was that she was alive and she had magic. _She had magic! Hahahaha..._ There was this long minute where Regulus Black Junior just laughed in pure joy. For she was alive and she had magic, she was in a magical world with magical parents and it was the most wonderful thing in the world. She felt the epitome of hapiness well up in her belly and gave a long lasting laugh to let it all out.

If Regulus had been even slightly more aware, she would have noticed wisps of happy green and blue magic emitting from her hands and lighting up the room.

"She...that….she," Regulus Jr's mother said in disbelief, at a loss for words.

"I know, Sierra…..I..," Regulus Sr. said, amazement coloring his tone of voice.

''An actual _Patronus! A Patronus_ Regulus!" Mom had shouted in amazement.

"It's not an actual Patronus, which would be a corporeal Patronus, you couldn't even make out the shape of the one she made…but nevertheless…"Dad criticized half-heartedly.

"It's all very well Regulus, you can't possibly insist on hiding her away after all the potential she shows….You could give Regulus a chance to know her father, truly know him, not all these meetings behind the dark as you do with me, Lord knows why too. It doesn't make any sense. Please, Darling, there must be another way…" My Mother reasoned, looking as close to tears as she could without actually crying. "Unless of course, you are ashamed of me- _us,_ I mean."

"You know as well I do that the she is not safe so long as I serve the Dark Lord, I will not betray him more then I already have by keeping young Regulus secret." Father said this sternly, and I wondered what situation I had stumbled into.

"And I still don't understand _why?_ You are one of his most trusted servants, he would not harm her! She would grow to follow him as faithfully as you and I do, and for that she would be valued for all the potential she shows, I do not understand why you insist to hide us away like rats in the dark!" Mother shouted angrily, "It doesn't make any sense Regulus!"

However not long after, my father did leave, though to where, I do not know. But I think it was about time I analyzed the situation.

Time passed by quickly, and I saw my father less and less. I knew he had already turned traitor against Voldemort, for it was the reason my mother and I never went out of the house. It wasn't a very difficult deduction to make, knowing what I did about the Harry Potter book series. Not that she knew that, of course. My mother's name was Sierra Lestrange, and she was Rabastan Lestrange's much, _much_ younger sister, though still quite a bit older then my father. She was talentless at magic, and as a result not held in very high regard by her family. She was, however, very intelligent. She did not worship Voldemort, but she was very good at pretending she did. She gave me the impression of being too cynical to be a follower, but she was a Pureblood in every sense of the word above all else. There were moments when her façade would crack and a little disgust or anger would shine through, but they were few and far in-between. My mother was beginning to guess the reason for our hiding, but she understood enough of pureblood politics to know that she owed my father for marrying her. My dad was a prodigy of sorts, and the heir to noble house of Black, he had done her a favor by accepting a betrothal contract. At least, that's the general gist of what I understood, Pureblood politics are all very complicated and extremely exhausting to make sense of.

I had been an avid Harry Potter fan throughout my life, and there was not a day that went by when I didn't rejoice in how lucky I was to find myself in this situation. I wasn't stupid, I knew exactly who my parents were, and which side they were on. It didn't matter at all, because they loved me and they were my parents, so I loved them. There wasn't a day that passed by when I didn't recite all the information I knew about Harry Potter to myself, in order to make sure I didn't forget anything. As a result, I knew the plotlines better than my own name, and my heart bled every time I remembered the fate of my father and my favorite character- Severus Snape.

My days at Grimmauld Place were spent in silence for the most part, the only disturbance being Walburga Black- who was still alive and well. Orion Black, however had died a while ago, and while she didn't enjoy talking to my mother very much their wasn't any other company to chose from. Walburga resented the fact that my father married her despite her status, and she didn't let my mother forget it. I didn't like her at all, she was a pureblood extremist to point where it was plain racist and discriminatory to muggleborns and half-bloods, but she was family, so I could forgive her for it.

The door to my room burst open, and my inner-musings were left interrupted.

A short figure was rushing frantically through the room, looking for me. It spotted me lying in my crib before snatching me and rushing hurriedly away. I was so startled I let out a little yelp of surprise, and I could feel my eyes watering and my vocal cords waiting to scream out in fear.

"Young Mistress, you mustn't cry! Lest you wake up the Mistressus Blacks! Master Regulus is dead and Kreacher must do as Master Regulus commands, to take the child and burn the locket!" Kreacher, our resident house elf, explained. I'm not sure what he was planning to accomplish, explaining this to a child who he thought couldn't understand him, but it did the job in shutting me up.

Kreacher rushed down the stairs, in a panic. "Kreacher is sorry to young Mistress Regulus, but Kreacher must do as Master Regulus says, tis not safe for you! The Dark Lord will seek revenge on master Regulus and he will go for Missus' Blacks first! Young mistress must stay quiet, Young mistress must forgive Kreacher for taking her to filthy muggles, Kreacher is sorry!"

I stayed silent, digesting the information as Kreacher ran through the streets of muggle London, though to where I did not know. I wondered why he didn't apparate, but I supposed it couldn't be safe to do so with a baby.

He sped through dark corners quick and stealthily, before coming to a stop at a bland looking building in a deserted street. He hurriedly placed me on the front steps and reached up to ring the doorbell.

"Kreacher is sorry, but young mistress will be safe here! Kreacher wishes for her best, but Kreacher must be leaving you with filthy muggles now, Kreacher hopes you be safe here!" With one more apologetic look sent my way, Kreacher took a step back, and then took another step, and another, until he was no longer there.

A while later, it became evident that Kreacher had sent me to an orphanage. I didn't know whether to throttle him or thank him. I knew he had thought it was in my best interests, and it probably was, but I felt the loss of family here more than ever. There was no love for me with these caretakers, they were much too busy with other children to care too much about any one person in particular. They were kind enough, but it wasn't the same. They didn't pay too much attention, and pretty soon, I found myself in a cycle. Every moment spent alone was a moment spent practicing wandless magic. Every night spent alone was a night spent entertaining myself with the adventures of one Harry Potter.

I didn't care much for putting on a show, pretending I wasn't as intelligent as I was. No, I spent every free moment advancing, talking and walking as soon as I could. By the time I was A year and a half old I was speaking in full sentences, and could walk up and down stairs on my own.

I could hear my caretakers, Wanda and Veronica Greymor, sisters who had set up this small orphanage on their own, talking about me. They thought me a prodigy, and I supposed they weren't entirely wrong. I didn't talk much with the other kids, mostly because I felt sorry for them. They were just children, but each thought themselves so alone in the world. It was disconcerting and I nearly cried thinking about it. I especially felt sorry for the ugly children, the ones who wouldn't get adopted because they were too old or unsightly. They knew it too, everyone here knew exactly who qualified and who didn't, and these children possessed a certain sense of cruelty you couldn't find anywhere else, especially in the way they dealt with each other.

I was a beautiful child, as were all from the House of Black, I had grey eyes and aristocratic features. With a pointed and sharp cheekbones developing on my child-like face, it was not long before I was adopted. It happened when I was three, a month or so after my birthday- August thirteenth, a nice looking couple who couldn't have children of their own took one look at my face and decided they wanted to adopt me.

The lady, she had vivid green eyes and a warm demeanor, she was a little overweight but had a beautiful face with sharp cheekbones, luscious brown hair and a lot of freckles.

"Hello there, my name is Matilda Dempson and that man behind me is my husband, Stewart Dempson."Matilda said warmly while pointing at a plump man standing awkwardly behind her. "We were wondering if you would like to be apart of our family. We can't have children of our own and we really want one. Would you like that?"

She looked so hopeful I didn't really have the heart to deny her, not that I would have otherwise. "I think I would like that very much Mrs. Matilda." I remembered to give a toothy smile to appear cute.

Mrs. Matilda was positively beaming at my answer, and then that was that.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2:

Matilda was an old soul, but above all, she was a kind one. She had the sort of compassion you see in someone who had never known pain, but not in a bad way, it was actually quite refreshing, and Regulus wasn't so far gone that she couldn't relate. Stewart wasn't as kind, or as helpful, or all that pleasing to look at really, but he tried-and that was worth Goldmines in Regulus' opinion.

They were in the upper-middle class category, living in a two story apartment in South Kensington, London. Stewart worked for some book publishing company and was the head of his division, probably next in line for chief position according to his business related phone calls. He was awkward around her, not sure how to deal with the unusually smart two year old that didn't pay him much attention.

Life got a little tedious after being adopted, especially since she had to go to school now, Matilda and Stewart figured she'd keep up just fine with 4-5 year olds in kindergarten. She had been living with them for about a month or so, and the only reason they had waited so long to enroll her was because they had no idea what to do with her. Generally, 3 year olds were shipped off to some daycare or whatever for about 7 hours a day, to eat, sleep and brat about to their tiny hearts content. Regulus made it crystal clear that she was a very mature three year old, above wasting precious time in, ugh… _daycares._ She was at least 23 years old mentally, she'd be damned if she allowed herself to waste time at a school where she'd be forced to learn how to read and write _again-_ and that includes Kindergarten. Her time would be best spent learning wandless magic, thank you very much.

"Don't you want to play with other kids, Regulus?" Matilda said soothingly. "You could make friends, it can't be fun with only us old people around every day, can it?"

"I don't see why not. You and I both know I'm more mature then kids twice my age. I already know how to read and write. Besides, I'm only 3. Aren't you worried that forcing this sort of socializing on a child could be detrimental to my health? I reckon this is some sort of form of emotional abuse for criticizing your horrid cooking skills." Regulus said sullenly. She had foregone modesty ages ago, and was a little blunt when annoyed, even if Matilda's cooking skills were less then abysmal.

Stewart and Matilda exchanged nervous glances, seemingly still unaccustomed to her way of speaking. They'd get used to it eventually, she wasn't about to dumb herself down for anybody-she certainly didn't see the point in doing so either.

"Now Regulus, you mustn't go about saying such things." Stewart pacified, glancing nervously at an irritated Matilda. "You know how sensitive your mother is about such matters."

Another glance at Matilda told Stewart that he was about to get another tongue-lashing on when to keep his mouth shut, so he hurriedly changed the subject.

"But, you know you'd have to go eventually." Stewart said anxiously, "It's against the law for you not to go to school, and Matilda and I don't have the time for homeschooling."

She rolled her eyes. "The solution is simple. You could get away with keeping me home until I'm about six, that would give the kids in my year level enough time to expand their knowledge from being ignorant brats and elevate to tolerable ignorant brats. I could consider starting school then, for the sake of appearances, of course, but it would still be quite pointless. I would greatly prefer if we could simply avoid the school stage completely, and just tell the authorities you're homeschooling me. You wouldn't be, of course-but they don't have to know that, and if anybody asks questions just a conversation with me would stifle any suspicions." Regulus stated, looking at her adoptive parents expectantly.

They were silent for a while before a frustrated Matilda decided that enough was enough.

" _You will_ be going to school, _and you will_ make friends with other intolerable brats and _you will_ ," She looked menacingly at me, "enjoy it." At this her facial expression reverted back into a serene smile, and Regulus inwardly scoffed but kept her mouth shut. Can't say she didn't try, but it was probably best she didn't aggravate Matilda too much, for as unlikely as it was, she didn't want to go back to the orphanage.

Regulus stared out the window and didn't answer, she wasn't about to concede to complete defeat.

"Now, Now, Regulus. Don't be like that." Stewart said, amused. "Think about it this way, by starting at three instead of five, you just saved yourself 2 years of putting up with ignorant, intolerable brats.''

She still didn't answer, and after a few minutes, Matilda looked at her sullen face guiltily. "Look Regulus, just try it out. Give it a month or two and then if it is truly unbearable, we can talk about other options."

Regulus sighed, resigned. "Whatever."

Regulus made her to the front gates and into her assigned classroom, all the while Matilda and Stewart were sending her encouraging waves and she once again thought about how tedious school would be.

Her teacher was a thin, tired looking lady with a big smile. Her name was Mona, and she had straight blonde hair and brown eyes, wearing her hair in tight, tidy bun. She was wearing an ensemble of a a blue cardigan over a plain red dress with black flats.

After going through attendance in a cheery voice with many a side comment, she finally finished and asked all of us to introduce ourselves, our likes. dislikes and our hobbies.

Regulus was staring at the chalk on the board, willing herself to levitate it without much luck. She wasn't too perturbed by her lack of success, this was only about her fifth try at doing wand-less AND verb-less magic. Perhaps she should master the former first before trying again? Well, if Tom Riddle could do it, so could she. She could have sworn she saw the chalk shift slightly when it was her turn to be called upon.

"Regulus, pay attention, it's only the first day!" Miss Mona," It hasn't even been a full half-hour yet, and we've got a whole school year ahead of us."

Regulus wasn't sure if her teacher was taunting her on purpose, but her mood visibly wilted thinking about how long the year would be. She heard a few kids snicker at her being scolded, but it didn't matter much to her.

"Yes, Ms. Mona," Regulus said politely, not really sounding apologetic at all.

Ms. Mona looked at her expectantly, as did the other children. She stared back at them, with an awkward silence until she remembered it was her turn to introduce herself.

"Well, my name is Regulus Black and I'm adopted," She ignored some of the blatant gasps coming from her peers and continued," I enjoy reading and spending time with my family."

Her teacher looked at her dubiously, and most her peers made either impressed or disgusted glances, and Regulus couldn't figure out why.

"You mean learning to read, don't you Regulus?" Her teacher said patronizingly.

Regulus inwardly sighed. It was those shocked, annoying reactions that wore her out. So what if she could read? So what if she was a smarter then the average child? She was a godamn 20 year old living in a 3 year olds body. She didn't fancy dumbing herself down for anybody, the faster people realized how odd she was, the sooner they'd leave her alone. She was more then a little introverted, and didn't enjoy spending much time in crowds. Hopefully her parent's would come to their senses soon and take her out of this extremely boring hell-hole. She wasn't sure how much more she could take.

However, that didn't happen. After school, Miss Mona called Regulus in during lunch, intrigued by the seemingly prodigious 3 year old who was younger then most of her peers. Needless to say, after that conversation Regulus moved up to 2nd grade, which was the highest she could go without there being a completely abdominal age difference.

Regulus went home a little more satisfied with herself and her parents returned home with much exasperation.

"Hmm...,"Stewart said, amused. "Is it strange that I'm not surprised? What's that saying again? if you want something done you have to do it yourself, I think that's what it was. Isn't that right Matilda?"

Matilda hung her head, exasperated. "She's going to be insufferable after this."

"We both know that I provide you guys with a ton of bragging rights, so a little gratitude would be appreciated..."Regulus said jokingly.

Though, in all seriousness, What she had said was very true. Stewart and Matilda went from the sweet old couple who could have no kids of their own (*gasp* oh, the shame), to the couple responsible for the most intelligent kid in school, it helped that Regulus was pretty and polite too. This held true in the way Stewart stood up, proudly and ruffled her hair, and in the way that Matilda gave a bright fond smile of her own that lit up Regulus' day.

"We can be insufferable together, Regulus." Matilda said while Stewart chuckled.

"2nd grade at 3 years old!" Stewart had said, "Would you look at that Matilda! Our daughter's going to be the smartest prodigy of the century."

He had such a proud look on his face that Regulus, apathetic as she was, felt a surge of pride. (Well, only for a short time, there wasn't much to be proud of when she was mentally 20 years old).

And so they were well, though only for the next two years. Before everything went to hell.


	4. Chapter 3

Regulus Black stared dumbly at the clutter of girls standing in front of her. They had grouped together in a V formation, arms crossed with chins up and righteous smirks directed at her face. Vaguely, Regulus was reminded of the movie _Mean Girls._ She let out a reminiscent sigh, for she truly missed modern culture. After she was feeling sentimental, A loud snicker brought her attention back to the disturbance at hand. The girls seemed adorable to an outsider's point of view, but Regulus knew better. They were a bunch of delusional girls that followed someone even more deluded then they were. Regulus was suddenly reminded of a herd of bitchy cockroaches that she stepped on _again and again and again,_ and simply refused to die. It was a never ending cycle of showing up one girl, only for another two to appear in her place. At least the boys had the good intuition not to get into a trash-talking match with her, but she couldn't apply the same wisdom to her dear female peers. Was she supposed to be intimidated at their display?

The leader of the group, Anna something, was an adorable 2nd grader with unusually pale skin and straight, mousy brown hair. She was a skeleton of skin and bones, with a permanent sneer plastered on her face whenever anyone older then her was out of the vicinity. For all her faults, never let it be said she didn't respect her elders. This seemed very ironic to Regulus, considering how long she'd been alive.

"Hey, REGGI-LOSER! I'm talking to you!" Anna shouted, waving her pointed finger at Regulus. "You think that you're better then us because you're smaller, but it's not true! You're really just an idiot that the other class didn't want!"

"Younger, actually." Regulus said, a matter-of-factly.

"huh?"Anna said confused for a second.

"You said, 'because you're smaller, but what you intended to say was 'younger," Regulus corrected, her immature side cackling on the inside. "But you know what? I actually am a little taller then you, despite that. I can see why you were confused and I excuse you for your mistake."

Regulus watched as Anna processed her words, and as her face escalated into different shades of red. It was very amusing. She went from the I'm-embaressed-red to the I'm-not-admitting-I'm-Wrong-Red, to the how-dare-you-make-me-look-bad-you-self-righteous-bitch-red. Regulus speculated that she must have been a tomato in her past life.

"I did mean to say that, you...you-uh, assbutt!" Anna said.

 _GASP. Oh no she didn't!_ Darling, you're playing in a whole different ballpark now.

Kate-at least that's what she thought her name was-, gasped."Sarah, you j-just sa-"

Sarah? It seems that Regulus was way off with Anna.

"And what of it? Are you going to tell my mother?" Sarah sneered.

"u-uh, no-nevermind," Kate said nervously.

Was this what a catfight looked like in this century? Oh, how the mighty have fallen. The cast of Mean Girls would be truly disappointed.

Anna glared at poor Kate for a few more seconds before turning on her heel and glaring at Regulus superiorly.

"You're really not that great, you know. I even heard that you were _adopted!"_ Sadie, Anna's-er- Sarah's friend said.

The cockroach entourage all gasped, and shook their heads simultaneously. It was a bit impressive, Regulus thought, as her mind conjured up a picture of well trained dogs she had seen at a dog show with her parents. She'd tell them as much, but she didn't think they'd appreciate the comparison.

"Yeah, yeah, but do you guys wanna know why?" Sarah said, trying to regain their attention. "My mother told me that her parents didn't want her, and that she only got adopted because her Mr. and Mrs. Stewart felt sorry for her!"

Ouch. No seriously, Regulus thought she might have accidentally hit her foot on something, and it hurt.

Sarah must have seen her pained expression, for she continued insulting Regulus with renewed vigor. The enthusiasm with which she continued insulting her was a little disturbing. Slightly amusing, but disturbing nonetheless.

"The homeless man on my street dresses better then her! She's so ugly." The entourage nodded, shaking their heads in tandem.

"You do realize we're wearing the same outfit right? Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't it part of school protocol to wear a uniform?" Regulus stated, flashing an innocent smile.

A few of her friends starting snickering, and Anna went from tomato-faced to blood-red _everywhere_.

Regulus sighed, resigned. Perhaps she'd let them have a victory today, she was getting a little tired of this tedious routine. After all, embarrassing others was unbecoming of lady, or so her mother said. They were like what, 7,8 years old? It would be more entertaining to show up older people, anyway. Also, She was really in the mood to get back to practicing her wandless magic. Truly, she was pathetic at it. After 3 months of trying, only last night had she managed to conjure a faint _Lumos_. She'd tried doing S _tupefy, Wingardium Leviosa, Petrificus Totalus_ \- even an ambitious _Expelliarmus_. And the only result she got was a half-assed _Lum_ _os_. But she could be patient, and she was nothing if not hard working.

Regulus was about to make amends when a teacher walked over to see what was going on. It was Mr. Smith. First name John. Seriously, she was pained on his behalf. She'd kill herself if that wasn't the most unimaginative name anyone could possibly ever think of, it was right up there with naming your kid Barbie. It seemed, though, as she watched Mr. Smith come closer, that she stood corrected.

Apparently, Regulus had been zoned-out for a while, because Sarah was already getting her ass handed to her by the teacher when she began paying attention.

"I swear, Mr., we were just joking with Reggi-uh, Regulus!" Sarah said desperately. "Isn't that right guys?"

Kate, Sadie and the rest of the entourage all echoed a loud 'yeah, totally' a bit too late.

Mr. Smith stared at them, unimpressed, before turning to me. " Is that true Regulus?"

"Absolutely," Regulus said, allowing a hopeful smile to show on Sarah's face, "Not. I was being severely bullied. I request them to be immediately punished. If this continues Sir, I might eventually consider a lifetime of cutting and self-harm. I could even come to contemplate suicide. Though not before suing the school for the unjustified way this situation was dealt with."

"I didn't realize you felt so strongly about this. As much as I appreciate your honesty, Regulus, the school does not accept the requests of student's on such things." Mr. Smith said, and was that sarcasm she spied?. "However, Sarah, since you are so insistent on your supposed friendship, I don't think you'll mind spending lunch explaining to me how this came to be."

Sarah sputtered, "But _I didn't do anything-"_

"I never said you did, Sarah." Mr. Smith said, staring at her evenly.

Ah, she thought, The perks of being a teacher's pet.

As the day wore on, she entertained herself by willing people she disliked to trip on nothing. Sadly, it only worked about 3 times (after about 60 attempts).

It was an oversight on her part, really, that she didn't expect to be cornered by Sarah's older brother after school. He was in 6th grade, and there was a significant strength gap between them, especially with her meager magical abilities, as much as it hurt her pride to admit it.

So, as she was being held down in the girl's bathroom by two of the friends Sarah's brother had bought, she thought she might as well make the most of it.

"You do realize that I'm only four years old?" Regulus said disapprovingly, giving them an unintimidated stare. "Tsk, Tsk, Tsk...I wonder what my poor parents' would think to know that I was assaulted by pedophiles! Aren't you a little too young to pick your preferences? I mean, you even came all the way to the _girls_ bathroom. It's quite pathetic. I'm sure that the authorities would be quite interested as well."

Regulus could feel them loosen their hold at the word 'pedophile', but it came back again tighter at the word 'pathetic,' and she inwardly smirked. Kids were so easy to manipulate.

But, as she noticed the menacing pair of scissors in the hand of Sarah's malevolent brother, she thought, perhaps it would have been smarter to keep her mouth shut.

"Hold her down!" the brother shouted, "You think you're such a smartass, huh? Bullying my little sister? _You're the pathetic one_! And you'll look it too when I'm done with you!"

Regulus realized his intentions after his friend had held her even tighter, and as he grabbed a fistful of her glorious black hair, only to snip it off. As she watched a snippet of her hair fall to the ground, she felt unfiltered fury at the audacity of the boy. _It was her hair!_ Her pride and joy! Who the hell did he think he was? _What right did he have to this to her_?!

" _Let go, Let go, Let go, let GO!_ Get off you fucking lunatics!" Regulus screamed as he cut more and more, her anger blinding her. She thrashed and twisted in their grip. She _refused_ to let them humiliate her like this. She kicked out desperately, and hit the brother's knee. Hard.

He stumbled back and winced, but still continued, pulling and cutting _more and more and more_ of her hair. She felt defeat creep on to her with every strand that fell, with every failed kick and punch that didn't make a difference. She hated the satisfied look on his face when he finally let her go, and to her utter disappointment, felt wet tears streak down her cheeks as she clawed at what was once her beautiful hair.

She felt for locks that weren't there, finding only thin strands as she touched her scalp, hating how much the loss bothered her. It was strange, the affect of hair on one's appearance, how different it could make you look. As she looked at her reflection, she thought she really did look pathetic. _God,_ she felt ugly. She hated the feeling. Hated her disgust at her appearance. Most of all, she hated how much she cared. How her hair was no longer than a buzz cut in some places, yet shoulder length in others. _She_ _hated it so fucking much._ The brother had made good on his promise, she thought bitterly. She truly felt pathetic.

She looked up at the sound of laughter. The brother was laughing, really hard, holding a hand to his stomach, with the other hand slumped against the wall. Everytime he calmed down, he'd look at her and start laughing harder."Ah wow, I don't think I've laughed that hard in a long time. Sorry, I guess that was a bit rude, wasn't it? But damn, if you aren't just the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

"Wow, is the little girl crying? Where's your smart mouth now, huh?" The brother snickered, while his friends avoided her gaze, uncomfortable."Damn, I don't think I'm cut out for hairstyling, You look the ugliest fucking thing I've ever seen. Are you sure you don't just want me to kill you now? You'd be doing the world a favor, sparing us the view." He said cruelly, with a laugh. "Come on guys, let's leave, let her cry, like the pathetic Bitch she is."

Regulus thought that maybe the worst part, was her inability to do anything. It was true, that she had thought herself better then a lot of people, with her being able to do magic and all. But, really, what was she worth? When even her own magic deserted her when she needed it. After staring for a while at absolutely nothing, Amina's side of Regulus made herself known. Regulus was physically four, and sometimes, what she felt or thought couldn't be helped because of it. However, Amina, was not four, she was an adult, mentally mature, and her and Regulus were one and the same. She was still Amina. Just a different face with a different name, and Amina recognized where such thoughts would lead her, and she had always thought herself better than that.

She wiped her face clean, and stood up slowly. She began to gather her hair in a pile on the floor, spending a while picking it all up, and fighting to keep her tears at bay when she resolved to throw it in the garbage. But she truly couldn't help the crying when looked at herself in the mirror. _Ok,_ she thought, _it's ok. Baby steps_. Wiping her face again, she resolved to avoid looking in the mirror.

Regulus could not remember feeling any more vulnerable in her short life than when she had had to walk home. School had been out by then, thankfully, so the walk of shame only meant she had to endure the judging gazes of strangers, instead of acquaintances. She suffered through it with as much grace as the situation allowed her and hurried home. By the time she had finally arrived, she saw the Stewarts' car in the driveway, and braced herself for her parents' reaction.

She walked in slowly, and soon enough she heard a murmur of voices from the kitchen. Good. Her pseudo mom was cooking, that meant she was likely to be in a good mood. Hmm, was that pasta she smelled? She hated pasta.

Mr. Stewart shook his head at something his wife had said, and he had just been about to reply before he noticed Regulus in the doorway and snapped his mouth shut.

"Speechless? You should be. Imagi- _Regulus! Dear God, **what did you do to your hair**!_ " Mrs. Stewart shouted, appalled, dropping the grocery bag in her hands onto the floor. "Darling, _what on earth happened?!"_

The shocked gaze of her mother, combined with the nervous gaze of her father gave her tears the leave needed to spill down her cheeks. Her mother now looked lost, and for good reason too. For Regulus had never been seriously upset in front of her, and Mrs. Stewart wasn't quite sure how she was to deal with the situation.

Meanwhile, Regulus was conflicted. Yes, she was feeling vulnerable about her appearance, but she was still disappointed in herself for letting it get to her, whether it was warranted or not. Nevertheless, she found herself sniffling into her mom's shoulder, with her tiny fingers tightly gripping the blue sweater. She told her mother of Sarah, and her brother. What he had called her, and what he had done to her hair. It seemed petty when she spoke it out loud, but she also felt relieved. The hurt from the cruel names she was called had still felt fresh, despite her best attempts to ignore it. Her mother grew very, angry, more than she had ever seen her in the short time they'd known each other. It showed in the way her eyes tightened at the corners and her lips thinned in fury. Her mother made a truly menacing picture, in a perfectly protective way.

"I will **_NOT_** let them get away with this, Regulus." Her mother promised, and in that Regulus had no doubt she would deliver, but what was the point?

"It doesn't matter, mom. Do whatever. In the end my hair still looks hideous." Regulus said bitterly, sniffling one last time, with her fingers tracing her scalp she finally looked up from her mom's shoulder, resigned.

"Now honey, there's no need to be dramatic. I think you look gorgeous." Mr. Stewart said, uncertainly, looking to his wife for reassurance. "In fact, I think if you wish it, your hair will be back to normal immediately!"

Mr. Stewart had said that beaming, before attempting to give his wife a discreet thumbs up. Needless to say, his efforts were met with twin looks of disbelief.

Regulus was heartened by her father's attempts to cheer her up, and honestly tried to put a smile on for him. Yet, all she could think of was how much she missed her hair, how she wished she had the glowing black locks she woke up with this morning.

"I think a trip to the Sal- _ **Oh Dear God, Stewart LOOK!,"**_ Mrs. Stewart said, as she began leaning on her husband, looking to him for support. To assure her that she was not insane, and that she was _not_ imagining what she was seeing.

However, it became blatantly obvious that Mr. Stewart would be of no help to his wife, in fact, it seemed that he was the one in need of assistance. At that current moment, he resembled a very well done human statue. With the gaping mouth and wide eyes, it looked like he might've just met Medusa herself.

Regulus was beginning to feel a tad insecure. Truly, if her parents thought that her hair looked this bad, perhaps she should invest in a turban. She was a little miffed though, couldn't they at least act like it wasn't that bad?! What Regulus didn't know, however, was that instead of the atrocious cut that had been there moments ago, her hair was growing back, and her ivory locks were expanding, the shining curls growing were framing her face nicely, even better then before. It wasn't the first time Regulus had done strange things in front of her parents, but it was the first that definitely could not go unexplained.

"Regulus!" Her mother said, dazed, hands shaking. " Dear God, Regulus! You're a witch!"

At this point Mr. Stewart had snapped out of his shock and decided to rejoin the conversation. "Um, just to clarify dear, did you just call our daughter a witch?"

"Don't look at me like _that_ Stewart, for God's sake, I'm not crazy!"Mrs. Stewart snapped at him, and Mr. Stewart hastened to wipe the humoring look off of his face.

"Remember my sister, Stewart?" Mrs. Stewart said, with a sad smile on her face, and Mr. Stewart's face hardened in memory. She patted an empty seat at the dining table, and Regulus slowly made her way over, incredibly confused.

"What makes you think I'm a witch?" Regulus asked, but her parents never got the chance to answer, as she could now feel her familiar curls on her back and shoulders, and she didn't waste a moment, sprinting to the bathroom. She didn't dare voice her thoughts, in fear of disappointment, but she needn't have feared anything, for her suspicions were confirmed as she looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Truly, she felt a relief like no other fill her up and as attempted to calm down her racing heart, an elated smile grew on her face. She sprinted back to the room, shouting:

 _"Mom, Look! It's back! It's really back! and it's even longer than it was before!_ _Thank you_!" Regulus exclaimed, jumping in her mother's arms.

"Thank you? I've done nothing, Regulus, it's all you." Mrs. Stewart said gladly, happy that Regulus was feeling okay again.

"Indeed. Where's my thanks? Did I not say it would grow back immediately?" Mr. Stewart said amiably, his tone betraying the jokingly hurt look on his face.

"Regulus, dear, I need to tell you something important." Mrs. Stewart said, and Regulus nodded curiously from her mother's lap, and listened." I used to have a sister, a few years younger then me, and from a time when she was young she knew there was something different about her. She could do the strangest things, Regulus, the very strangest! I really don't know why I was surprised when she turned eleven and received a letter declaring her entrance in a school of witchcraft and wizardry. I was happy for her, for a time, she had found a place where she belonged in this big world, and for a while she was happy too. She told me things, though, things she never told anyone else, and I found out that her perfect world really wasn't that perfect. She lived in a time of war, when witches born of non-witch families were considered the scum of the Earth. It was the most terrible time to be who she was, when she was and she died for it. For doing nothing at all, Regulus, nothing!" Mrs. Stewart said passionately, and here her tone took a bitter turn," It may seem like you've been given a gift, but it is not! I promise you that it will only cause you pain. For all it may seem, _it is not safe_ , _Regulus! Especially not for someone like you._ Please understand, darling. I suspect when you turn 11 you'll get that same letter, but understand when I say you will not accept it. You'll live a happy life here with us, darling, away from the prejudice of that world."

It was a while before she answered, for she was still in shock, processing what her mother had told her. Who would've thought that she knew so much? When she did reply, though, her words were sure."Mom, magic is _everything_ to me. I understand your point, but I don't care if it's the most unsafe thing in the world, I'd rather die than be without it!" Regulus should have probably chosen a wiser choice of words, for her mother's arms tightened around her, and her eyes turned cold. But the truth was Regulus had indeed thought about it, and she did believe she would die for her magic. It was the experience of a lifetime, having it. She loved it more than anything in the world, and she wasn't even as scared of death as she was before. After all, she had already done it once, who's to say that she couldn't do it again?

"What would you know? _You're only four!_ What's wrong with being normal? What's wrong with staying with us?! Are you really so eager to leave us behind?! I'm sorry to tell you that so long as I'm breathing, you will **_never_** know the wizarding world! You'll live life like the rest of us, and one day you'll thank me for it!"

"I never said that! Stop putting words in my mouth!" Regulus was beginning to get angry, and she became more enraged as she continued speaking. "You know I'm just as mature as anyone else! I can make this decision for myself! It doesn't matter if you let me go or not! I swear I'll do it anyway! You're not even my real mom!"

No sooner had she finished her sentence when she felt her head snap to the side, a bright red handprint on her cheek.

" ** _You will not._** I will not change my stance on this, and you have absolutely no choice in the matter! How dare you! I may not be your biological mother, but I've loved you in every way that counts! Have I ever wronged you?! Not supported you?! If you want to go, _then go_ , **_but you will never do so while living under my roof_** , **_you ungrateful brat_**!" Mrs. Stewart shouted this, angry tears in her eyes, with her hands fisted at her sides.

Enraged at her mother's word, she felt fury build up inside of her, more intense then even what she had felt earlier. It was bottled up inside of her, until she couldn't stand it anymore. **She was just. S _o._ _ANGRY_! ** She could feel herself release something from inside of her and she screamed in frustration,

 ** _"I HATE YOU!"_**

From then on, everything seemed to pass in slow motion.

It seemed that imaginary hands had pushed her mother backwards, and as she watched, gradually she realized that it was her doing this. Her magic at work! She didn't even have the time to regret what she did before it was too late to take it back. Her mom fell backwards, and Regulus watched as she fell closer and closer to the floor, with her hands reached out to her, as if asking her to save her from the impending hurt that was sure to come. Regulus widened her eyes in horror as the knife-sharp edge of the table meet her mothers' neck, and as it seemed to slit her throat slowly before she met the floor with a resounding thud.

The blank, wide, eyes of her mother seemed to stare into her soul, blaming her. Her pale, dead face was frozen in terror as she lied in a pool of her own blood.

Regulus had just killed her mother.


	5. Chapter 4

Regulus felt like she had been running for hours. And for all she knew she could have been. Her lungs were on fire, and her young legs ached from the strain of prolonged physical activity. Regulus was oblivious to all of this, despite the intensity of the pain. It seemed so trivial at that moment, so unimportant. Everything did. The physical pain did not hold a candle to the mental turmoil Regulus was suffering. The genuine grief that was plastered plainly on Mr. Stewart's face as Mrs. Stewart had fallen to the ground hurt so much more. She took his wife away from him, robbed him of a future with her. Her parents had loved each other _so, so much_. And now they didn't, because Mrs. Stewart was no longer there to be loved.

And it was unquestionably her fault.

Regulus had cowardly fled the house upon processing the scene. Uncaringly abandoning her belongings behind, as well as her father to his lonesome. She knew, logically, that she was alone now. That she would never have a family again. But that was trivial when she realized that Mr. Stewart was now alone too. That he would never see his wife again. Never see her again. Never want to see her again. It made everything so much worse when she knew that he would _never_ remarry or ever adopt another child without her. He had nobody now.

She'd never hear Mr. Stewart make another awkward comment again, and never hear Mrs. Stewart laugh at it. She would never cook for her again. She'd never read to her, talk to her, glare at her, smile at her or laugh with her. She was gone. Dead and hating her from wherever she was now, if she was anywhere at all. Perhaps Mrs. Stewart would get a second chance at life as well. Maybe she would live another life Regulus did, and maybe, _maybe,_ she might find it in her heart to forgive her if she was good enough from now on _._

But she didn't mean to make things like that.

She would swear on her first life, and her second life, on her integrity and honesty, she would swear by her happiness and future and any or all, future futures and even swear on her magic. She would swear it a thousand and one times if she thought it would change anything.

She really, really, didn't mean to.

Thinking of her loss had her hysterically trying to outrun the realization, because _anything_ would be better then what she was feeling now. The impending moment when she processed that what _had been **right there**_ …it would now be lost to her forever. The crushing sense of guilt weighed down on her mind, unrelenting, and the worst part was that she had brought this on herself. She had been so incredibly close. So close, to living a full life with them….To being…..loved.

The kind _that everybody else had unconditionally and didn't even appreciate it!_ The future she could have had had been in her grasp and then slipped through her fingers and it was all because of her magic. While she couldn't reasonably attribute it to that she knew that this sort of rotten luck had to be the cause of divine intervention. For fucks' sake _, her mother died by table edge. **A goddamn table edge killed her mother!**_ And it would never have happened if she had just told her mother she wanted to live with her, that she was willing to give up on magic.

She didn't though, and this was the result. She couldn't-she loved her magic more than _anything_! Just the thought of losing it….

 _How fitting,_ Regulus thought bitterly, _that now, magic was all she had._

 **The worst part was, it was worth it.**

Not in the way it happened, or why it happened-because she really, really didn't mean it. But her magic was a part of her very being, and she could never be idle faced with the threat of losing it **.**

Regulus legs could no longer sprint, and they collapsed under her, limp and trembling. She was on an abandoned street, kneeling on the dusty sidewalk with a pale hand clenched to her side, filling her lungs with desperate gulps of air. Her legs were shaking with the effort it had taken to withstand the abuse of running for so long. Her eyes were all but blinded by the onslaught of tears streaming down her cheeks.

Regulus didn't know how long she spent there, mourning for her mother on the sidewalk, immune to the passing of time. She was gradually becoming aware to the busy world around her through subtle shifts of her body. First her legs grew sturdy, then her side stopped aching, and after what seemed like forever, there was only a single tear left to water the sidewalk.

Regulus stared at nothing for a while more before she finally placed her hands on the floor and pulled herself off the ground.

It's just me and my magic, Regulus thought weakly, I can do this. I can do this. I just need to breathe. Breathe Regulus, then think logically. She needed to find a place to stay the night

Where would she go, indeed?

She started meandering around the area, drifting along the road as her legs led her. As she kicked away rocks and pebbles out of her way, she tried to figure out what allies she had in this strange world.

It was here that she re-established to herself that she was alone. Alone, but with magic. That was enough for her. She had been reciting the Harry Potter novels chapter by chapter every day since she was born because there was _nothing_ that terrified her more than forgetting. There was a brutal future awaiting the wizarding world, and she needed to know how to avoid it. She made sure to know why anyone worth mentioning died, how they died and when they died. The names, events, people and places that were known to the world-she had mastered the knowledge of the known world in her memory,

And to put it simply, the plot had not been kind to Black family.

She knew that Sirius Black was in Azkaban. That Regulus Black was dead. Bellatrix Black in Azkaban. Andromeda Black alive, and the mother of a possibly dead Nymphadora Tonks. Narcissa Black, alive and living in a household of blood purists Malfoys. Walburga Black, if still alive in this timeline, a vehement blood purist and Voldemort supporter. And if not, then dead.

So it was Narcissa Malfoy, or Andromeda Tonks.

That was who the magical ministry would send her to if what she knew of them was right. And she didn't fancy either option very much. She would be a burden. Also, she would be supervised and therefore limited. Regulus didn't want to be proper, or to have the responsibilities of the typical family member. She didn't want to know people who would die or get hurt…as of now she could barely keep herself together as it is. She imagined living with people she knew would die, or worse-betray her and turn traitor. Regulus balked at the mere thought of this.

She would have to depend on herself from now on.

She couldn't even really rely on her mother, as sometime during Harry's time at Hogwarts it became known that the only Lestranges' alive were thrown in Azkaban. That made her mother either a criminal, or dead. She was never mentioned in the Harry Potter novels so Regulus put her money on dead. That made a house-elf the closest Black family she had left.

…That made a house-elf the closest Black family she had left….

Wait… That made a house-elf the closest Black family she had left…

 _That made a house-elf the closest Black family she had left!_

 ** _A HOUSE-ELF THE CLOSEST BLACK FAMILY SHE HAD LEFT!_**

The thought ringed in her ears, screaming at her mind and deafening her senses. Her heart beat raced to match the speed of her thoughts, and she could feel a timid hope rising inside of her, fearful of failure and yet daring in its vibrancy.

For the first time in this night, Regulus took in her surroundings, wondering how she had missed the crowd of bustling passerby's strolling through the streets. She walked as fast as she dared without seeming suspicious, and hastily ducked into the nearest empty alley she could find.

With the sound of her thrumming heart echoing in her mind, Regulus took the deepest breath she could muster, and making sure to steady her frail voice she exclaimed:

 ** _'KREACHER!_** '

The moment after sent her body into a tangible spiral of hope. Her eyes scraped the alley, relentlessly scrutinizing every single detail of its brick walls, with her hands tightly clenched and fiercely digging into the skin of her palm. Dear God, her heart! She felt as if her small body could surely not carry all the limitless anticipation that was surging inside of her, why she felt as if it would explode out her chest with all the tenacity of the world, leaving her reason behind completely!

 ** _*CRACK*_**

Low and behold, before her stood Kreacher, the first ever magical creature she had ever seen.

She spent a good minute taking him in. Processing his unorthodox, tiny, but magical, magical appearance without taking a breath.

Then she laughed the merriest laugh she had ever laughed in her life, because _nothing_ could make her happier than magic. And Kreacher was the most magical thing that had ever happened to her.

If she had been paying attention, she might've noticed his rapidly widening eyes, his hesitant steps forward, and upon examining the area briefly, the frantic and firm hold on her wrist, apparating her to Grimmauld Place.

The feeling was as unsettling as unsettlingly possible. And we mustn't forget nauseating-Regulus felt that in spades, hunching over and too startled to keep her composure.

She could faintly hear the sound of wailing in the background, but the awful feeling in her head and stomach kept her too preoccupied to do much else but curl up into a ball on the floor. She dimly took note of the dusty floor she was rolling in and reminded herself to clean up herself afterwards. She gradually regained her health and focused on the rising voices.

"She's four! _Four_ , Kreacher! What if she had been splinched? Merlin! There are laws against this for a reas- _Kreacher, stop that!_ It's undignified." An eerily feminine voice said sharply upon the sound of banging.

"Kreacher is very sorry to Miss, Kreacher will not do it again! Kreac-"A franticly male voice croacked out before he was interrupted.

"Kreacher, cease your incessant wailing…I….thank you. You have done much for me Kreacher,'' The feminine still sounded as sharp as glass, only it seemed to hold a grateful tone.

At this point, Regulus had gathered herself, slowly rising to her feet, taking in the scene. It seemed that Kreacher was suffocating in his tears-the poor elf was literally coughing up a lung while simultaneously crying his tiny heart out. All the while letting lose a relentless stream of thanks and self-deprecating words. The strangest thing about was he seemed happy.

Although, she should have taken into account the talking snake that was both insulting and consoling Kreacher at the same time. The reptile was short and lithe, with pure black scales glittering along its body. She kept on sending rapid and delighted…?...glances at Regulus, and it was making her nervous. She didn't know why she was surprised that the snake could talk, but she was, but she really shouldn't have been. Magic was boundless.

Regulus dusted herself off, straigtened her back, and cleared her throat, earning the undivided attention of a wide eyed Kreacher, and a restless snake. "Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Reg-"

"Regulus Black Jr, I know dear. Kreacher filled me on when you were preoccupied in getting acquainted with the floor. Also, don't say it's a pleasure to meet us before you've properly met us, you must wait until we give you our names first-after all, what if we are the most unpleasant pair you've ever met, hmm?" Her words were reproachful, but her tone was joyous. She seemed elated, many times she had slithered forward in haste, before catching herself and maintaining attempting to control her demeanor.

"I'm sorry, but I haven't caught you name yet…Ms.?"

"Of course not. You had not asked for it before now, which is slightly appalling. We must rectify that later, your politeness compensates for most of your ignorance, anyhow." She had slithered forward while she spoke, before halting a mere inch away from Regulus-who was dumbfounded at how to act in this circumstances. She rose to her full height, meeting Regulus' eyes directly, her body now tense, and her tone careful.

"My name is Sierra Lestrange, and I am your mother. I apologize for my appearance, but I'm afraid it is now the only one I can adopt. We may reunite properly after you explain how you knew to call for Kreacher. It would be dreadful for me to have to kill an impostor, it is the most troubling hassle to clean my fangs of my blood." Then, upon assessing Regulus again with another cursory glance, "Don't worry too much, I believe you are who say you are. But after all, Julius Ceasar believed in Brutus until he died a death by 23 stab wounds, so I reckon that perhaps I should reevaluate. "


End file.
